


The Lighthouse and The Storm

by KnightOwl725



Series: Healing in a Graveyard AU [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gay yearning, M/M, Modern Era, Pining, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24120139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOwl725/pseuds/KnightOwl725
Summary: A companion piece to Healing in a Graveyard.Caduceus Clay lives in the graveyard his family has tended for generations, The Blooming Grove. Growing up, he was raised under countless spiritual beliefs, including the distant idea of a soulmate. But that sort of love isn't for him, not when family and goddess and nature are enough.Now an adult, his family has moved out or away piece by piece, so he fills his home with a group of college students. When one of their friends is in desperate need of a place to stay while he breaks from a dangerous situation, Caduceus is confronted with the unwavering conviction that this broken, battered man is his soulmate.Convinced this could never end well, Caduceus is content to support him in whatever way he can. Little does he know, Fjord isn't the lost cause he seems to be.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Series: Healing in a Graveyard AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740379
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	The Lighthouse and The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to Healing in a Graveyard. It's Caduceus's POV from points in that story, including some additional scenes. However, it's not meant to be a standalone story, so I recommend reading Healing in a Graveyard first!

Caduceus knew he was in love when he was eight years old.

He grew up back when the city was still a town, back when construction was just getting to a constant level. And as more people from stranger places came to live nearby, it only became clearer that he and his family were...weird.

And Caduceus? He was the weirdest of all. The firm compassion and keen judgement of his mother, the penance for wandering in mind and spirit like his aunt, the slow style of his father, all combined to make a man that bewildered all who met him. Even among his siblings.

It didn’t help that the family lived for a goddess many had never heard of. They didn’t care if people understood, not most of them. The Clays cared for their house and land, for the graveyard and the dead, for the mourners and each other. They prayed, they built their lives around little rituals, and they believed. 

They believed in many things, big and small. From the great power of their goddess to that of a simple little ritual, like an extra candle in the birthday cake for luck, or a kind of love that was felt from the start.

Caduceus learned about love in many forms. He knew the love of the Wildmother and that of his family the best, but that wasn’t the one that needed believing. He felt that love in every meal, every laugh, every hug, every spring, every tree, every grace of the wind. He had proof, even if others might not think the same. 

There was another kind of love he’d heard about, painting the walls of his mind like the illustrations of a fairy tale. This love could offer no proof, not for a long time.

“Someday you will meet your own person,” his mother used to say, children on her lap and around her as she told a nighttime story. “Like how I found your father, you will find them. Or they may find you.”

“Whatever.” Colton would roll his eyes, echoed by Calliope. They wanted to explore the world, to meet people, to build their own lives somewhere separate. Love and romance were well and good, but soulmates?

“It’s just a fairy tale,” they used to say.

Caduceus loved fairy tales, and he never understood why being part of a fairy tale made something unreal. He believed in so many miracles, the idea of soulmates seemed just one more. 

But not for himself. His siblings would find their people someday, or vice versa. They were wanderers, adventurers full of life and energy and passion. Caduceus was simply there. He was always there. And people who stayed at home didn’t make it into fairy tales. 

Aunt Corrin did not have a soulmate. She never seemed to miss it or care. She loved and lived as fully as the rest of them, and Caduceus could do that, too.

Still, he wanted to believe for himself.

“You could ask Her about them,” his father had told him when he was eight, when he’d listed out his series of questions about the whole soul mate process. And so he did. Before bed that night, he politely asked the Wildmother to tell him about his person, if he had one. 

He crawled into bed, already a little too tall for the child bed. His blankets only came to his chest, so he curled up to pull himself further into his blankets like a cocoon. He listened to the distant sound of the wind through the window, the slow breathing of his brother, the telltale signs of Calliope sneaking in and out of the house. Then, he dreamed.

He dreamed of something warm, something deep and good. He saw himself as towering, bright, surrounded by Her. He saw the wild path he walked, calm and certain even when his steps were not. And, in time, he saw that he did not walk alone. And when he woke, he remembered only that feeling. He remembered love.

But time and silence had a way of shaking even the firmest of believers. Caduceus told himself he’d forgotten about the dream. That the feeling had faded. He was happy this way, and the only loneliness he felt was because of the empty house.

It took a few tries to find the right tenants, but he found them in time. A group of friends all but the opposite of his family. Chaotic and undisciplined, running through life like firecrackers, full of energy and fire and so much brighter together. He loved them early on. They became his family, and they accepted him as if he’d always been there. It felt good to be accepted. They saw him for the strange, looming gravekeeper he was, and in time they shrugged and adjusted and left room in their fiery lives for him. He made changes to his home and his life to make room for them in turn, even if it meant he couldn’t have as many plants as he’d like.

He wasn’t lonely anymore. But that was a lie. The longer his home was full, the more he felt empty. Something was missing, something that he needed. And he couldn’t keep buying plants as a way of filling that emptiness.

It weighed on him. His hair didn’t keep the color as long as it used to. His plants seemed prone to spots and drooping. Laughter didn’t hit the same. He hid himself in his eccentricism, and no one knew well enough to see anything wrong.

And then, one sticky Monday morning, he awoke in pain. His chest ached, dull, but agitating. Like he’d pulled a muscle. He wondered if he had the day before. Perhaps he was trying too hard to get those new graves dug. Maybe he could get some help from someone in the Nein. His projects had stacked up on him. He would take it easy that day, or at least try.

The pain stayed with him, but did not worsen. He began to rub absently at his chest throughout the morning. He took yoga with Beau more slowly than usual, took his time caring for the houseplants. He meandered - he was good at that. 

“Like a little old man,” his mother used to tease. Like his father.

Beau left the house in a huff in the afternoon, calling out, “I’m going to kidnap Fjord! Be back later!”

“Good luck!” Jester cried from her room. Caleb muttered something that sounded encouraging. 

Caduceus missed his chance to comment while he tried to remember who Fjord was, exactly. His name sounded familiar. He was part of the Nein’s friend group, perhaps the only person who hadn’t lived here it seemed. And why was that? Hm. He couldn’t recall.

He continued about his day, making a grocery list and tidying up the kitchen. He swept, he cleaned the windows, and he rubbed at his chest. In the afternoon, he took a break to pray. He’d just approached his small shrine in the entry room when Beau returned.

“Honestly, I’d like to see them try. You haven’t even seen--”

He greeted her without thinking, rude in his distracted state. Maybe he should call his father about this pain. “Ah, Beauregard? Welcome home.”

She wiped her feet on the map and greeted him in return. When Caduceus noticed an unfamiliar figure behind her, she yanked him further into the room.

“Yeah, Caduceus, this is Fjord. The friend we’ve mentioned. Fjord, this our landlord, Caduceus.”

Fjord, whom he still couldn’t quite place, was a striking half-orc man. He looked tired, with shadowed eyes and patchy facial hair. His skin was a smooth green. A crossed scar marked his forehead, and another his upper lip. They looked artistically placed, almost intentional. He had no tusks to speak of, and his eyes were a bright, golden color. In his dark hair was a strike of gray, implying that he might be among the older Nein members.

He looked as though the Wildmother herself had carved him from malachite and green aventurine, then the world had churned him up into something darker, worn. 

The pain in Caduceus’s chest spiked, and then it was gone.

Then, Fjord spoke in a voice that was as deep as it was warm. “Hello.”

 _Ah,_ he thought. A dream two decades old replayed in an instant behind his eyes. Himself, older and wiser, his uncharted path, the unknown figure at his side. In his mind’s eye, the image of that figure, once blurred and shapeless, was crystal clear.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Fjord said.

_You have no idea._

~~

He remembered who Fjord was shortly after. The cult friend. The one dating some crazy woman with an eye tattoo on her hand. The one slowly dying from stress and possibly actual starvation. 

At least, that was what he’d heard from the Nein in recent months. 

He understood immediately. He offered Fjord the room. He’d have done it for anyone. Or at least any friend of his friends. But he needed this. He needed Fjord in his home. He needed to keep him away from the darkness that sought to devour him. He needed to give him safety and warmth and _food_. He needed, desperately, to care for this man, however it might be allowed.

For now, a room. Blankets. A plant.

 _Here,_ he thought as he handed it over with care instructions. _Take this life that I have cared for. Hold it in your space. Feel the love that I poured into it through the air it makes for you. Breathe and rest._

He’d have felt bad for Fjord, or perhaps guilty with the sudden attention, but Caduceus knew himself enough to know it would go unnoticed. After all, he was just there. And this, even, was more than he had hoped for aloud.

~~

Having Fjord help him in the mornings was a mistake. 

He used to think he was like his aunt. Just not interested in people physically. That was true, mostly, but he’d found the odd exception here and there. Among them was Fjord.

Fjord was in a sweat-soaked t-shirt in the early morning sun, muscles tensing as he wheeled off a barrel of freshly lifted dirt. He smelled like sweat and dirt and a little like a mixture of morning dew and grass. 

Caduceus kept his distance, increasing it bit by bit when it didn’t help. He fluttered about to other tasks, staying nearby to keep an eye on Fjord’s work. His actual work, from a professional standpoint.

Fjord had spent years working on ships, he’d said. The work ethic that must have required shone with each task given him. A few clear instructions, and he was off. Which was for the best if he was going to help Caduceus this week. He was too easily distracted to have to babysit someone’s work.

Later, when Beau invited Fjord to join their meditation, Caduceus knew better than to let her push.

Let this house be a safe space for you, he thought as he spoke different words, almost like a prayer. You have been controlled and ordered too long. Let only choices lie before you, and may I always be a peaceful one.

Fjord didn’t choose him. Not then.

Well, that wasn’t fair. Fjord had chosen the security in the known. He had chosen against meditating, against a step further outside the bubble he’d already left, however temporarily. 

Still, it felt a little personal. But Caduceus could have patience unlike any other. He’d spent his life believing he would never meet Fjord. Now, at least, he knew him. He didn’t know what to expect, but what little he knew of Fjord made him set those expectations low. He hoped to be friends. He hoped to know this man he hadn’t believed existed. For that, he could wait.

~~

Fjord had gone to bed early the first night he was in the house, so Tuesday evening, Caduceus eagerly set to make the first meal he would ever cook for Fjord.

His mind ran away with him as he worked, catching him in a moment of weakness to wander through possibilities. He wondered what food Fjord liked. He hoped he wouldn’t turn his nose up at Caduceus’s vegan fare. He didn’t bar anyone from eating what they wanted, but he just couldn’t for the life of him work with anything else. He’d grown up with vegan food. It was what he knew. He hoped Fjord would be a little adventurous. 

When Fjord changed his mind and agreed to eat with them, he may as well have handed Caduceus a gift. He had, in a sense. Caduceus laid out their meal, overjoyed at the sight of a full table, brimming with warmth and comfort and love.

When he sat down, he said a little prayer in his mind. It came from childhood, something the adults used to say before they ate. It was a prayer he said nearly every shared meal for the group, but it held a special meeting tonight.

May you eat well. May my work and my love nourish you. May this be one of countless good meals in good company. May you sleep well, full and warm. And may we never part for long.

The week passed too quickly, each moment eaten by time. The speed with which the world changed was not new to Caduceus, but this anxiety at time passing was. He’d never faced a time limit like this. 

The weekend was upon them too quickly. Friday evening

The table was set, Nein sat, and all bodies accounted for. Except one.

“Where’s Fjord?” Jester asked, trading shrugs with everyone around the table. 

“He is usually the last one in,” Caduceus noted.

“Ah, fuck,” Beau said. “I could’ve texted him, but my stupid phone--”

“What if something happened?” Nott asked. “You’re the first person he’d call.”

Tension fell over the table like a bucketful of water.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Caleb said.

“I’ll call him!” Jester announced, jumping to her feet. She pulled her sticker-coated phone from her pocket and tapped furiously on the screen. She stepped back from her chair, pacing in a half-skipping motion as she held the phone to her head. The rest of the table watched, both trying to detect what was happening by her expression and not bore holes into poor Jester.

Her face scrunched in worry as she pulled her phone away from her face, tapped a few times, then held it back up. After another moment, she looked to the group. “He’s not answering!”

“It’s not like him not to pick up at all,” Yasha murmured. 

Caduceus kept his expression calm. They needed calm right now. If it were anyone else in the world, they would be fine. They would assume all was well and leave it be. But this was Fjord.

His chest was tight, his throat constricted. 

Fjord was fine. Fjord was fine. Fjord was okay.

He stood in the space where the kitchen turned into the dining room and sent up a prayer.

“Maybe he’s tuning it out on accident, like when you get used to an alarm?” Caleb offered. “I know when I get focused--”

“An atom bomb couldn’t break your concentration,” Beau said. “I’ll go check the libraries.”

Caduceus held up a hand as she stood and tried to pass him. “Let me try giving him a call before we send out the search party.”

He wasn’t sure how that would end differently than Jester’s call, but he had a feeling. Besides, sending Beau without a phone into the darkening evening to wander aimlessly wasn’t going to help.

Jester handed over her phone, and Caduceus copied the number into his. It was a slightly battered device, now carefully nestled in a thick case. Several years out of date, but it did what he needed. And right now, he just needed it to find Fjord.

“Hello?”

Every ounce of tension he’d been trying to hide escaped Caduceus in a single breath. It felt as though the world had shifted back into place when he hadn’t realized it had been knocked out of alignment. If something had happened to Fjord…

 _You’ve known him for days,_ he scolded himself. “Ah, good, it’s you.”

To the others, he said, “It’s Fjord everyone.”

“Caduceus? Of course it’s me. This is my number.”

He wanted to laugh. Oblivious as ever, Fjord was safely somewhere and completely unaware that he had a houseful of people ready to tear the city apart to find him. 

“We love you,” Caduceus wanted to say. “We’re so happy to hear you’re safe. I’m so happy to hear your voice. Please come back so we can see you. So I can see you safe.”

But he didn’t say any of that. That would be too weird, even for him. Instead, he explained their panic, stepping away when the Nein grew too loud to hear. 

“What time--" There was a pause as Fjord’s voice grew distant. "Oh shit! I'm sorry Caduceus. I'm getting my things and running right home. I just got caught up studying.”

Home. He’d said home. Fjord had called The Blooming Grove his home.

It was an offhand comment, something he said in a distracted state of mind. It was just a word. But it warmed his heart like a burst of flame to the chest, equal parts comforting and burning. 

It only worsened - got better, no worsened, no - when Fjord talked about researching the Wildmother. He hadn’t just asked Caduceus; he’d gone after more information to come to his own conclusions. He’d taken the little bit of peace and hope Caduceus offered, and he’d built on it on his own. 

A younger Caduceus would have gotten addicted to this, to helping someone who might actually use it. He would have poured so much of himself into Fjord that he’d be left drained, exhausted, used, and bitter. But he was older now, and pain had taught him.

Still, this was pretty damn addictive. Just talking to Fjord. Chatting about his family. Noticing all the things Fjord remembered. Watching his silhouette slowly grow on the path.

“Welcome home,” he wanted to say. It came out, “Hello. Hungry?”

Fjord smiled, and Caduceus was home.

~~

Caduceus saw himself as a lighthouse. People often compared him to a tree, and while he appreciated the thought, it wasn’t quite right. He hadn't known what it would mean when he met Fjord, but he wasn't surprised. He didn't believe in coincidences after all.

He saw himself as a lighthouse, capable of casting warnings and directions in his vague way. He did not control who accepted his help. It had been a hard lesson to learn, but he was glad for the pain that had taught him. It made him prepared to encounter Fjord, prepared to send liferaft after liferaft out into hostile waters that Fjord would not accept. It made him prepared to watch Fjord drown and suffer, Caduceus holding the rope in his hands but Fjord choosing not to grab the other end.

It made it all the sweeter when that didn't happen. When Fjord followed the light, slowly, cautiously. When Fjord climbed onto the shaky raft with gratitude. When he grasped the end of the rope and _swam_ for safety.

He looked at Caduceus like he carried some ancient secret, some ethereal wisdom that might change everything. He didn't. No one did. He worried that Fjord left him on a lonely pedestal, but for him, he accepted the admiration and returned it in kind.

When had he last seen someone suffering so greatly who accepted help so quickly? Or maybe it only seemed that way to Caduceus. He'd come in at the end of the suffering. But still. Fjord took the hands offered and lifted himself from the darkness. He found his own way in these treacherous waters. He chose the shore he landed on.

He chose the shore Caduceus shone from.

Caduceus found a notebook left out Saturday. The Nein was always leaving out their things, and he didn't mind much. He liked to respect their privacy, but he also liked to know things. So if something was left unattended and open, he might peek at the visible pages.

The handwriting was unfamiliar to him, and he suspected the worn notebook belonged to Fjord. The open pages drew him in, promising to unveil the secret corners of Fjord's mind. A moment of weakness pushed Caduceus to peer in.

They were notes. Lightly cited and scrawled out in chunks and lists. Lines connected different portions. Thoughts were scribbled in the margins.

It was about the Wildmother. Fjords notes from his research. Caduceus had believed him of course, but to see notes as detailed as if it were a vital class…

What was She planning?

Caduceus looked up to Her with suspicion dripping from his expression.

 _I don't know what you want me to do about it,_ he thought with some agitation. _These things take time._

So maybe he lied when he said he never talked to Her like Jester did the Traveler.

Fjord wasn’t the first person to take interest in the Wildmother, but he was the first who took to her so readily. She offered comfort, guidance, protection, and purpose. She was everything Fjord had wanted when he waded out into the ocean. She was everything he was promised when he found The Champions.

He didn’t seem to believe it, any of it. Caduceus could almost see the cogs turning in his head, not quite moving and not quite fitting together right. Fjord believed that the things he wanted came with sacrifice. He couldn’t have a deity that loved and protected without constant demands and danger. He couldn’t have a life that was full of warmth, purpose, and fun. He couldn’t have a home that was clean, safe, and without strings. He couldn’t have a love that--

Well. Caduceus wasn’t going to go there.

He wanted Fjord to see that he could have it all, but he had to let him decide that on his own. He wouldn’t interfere, he promised himself.

But then, Calliope mentioned that job.

“I really need a second receptionist,” she said when he noted how busy the gym was. “I’ve been interviewing some other students, but I’m not a fan. I need someone disciplined, with people skills.”

Fjord’s face shone in his mind’s eye, but that was par for the course these past few days. “I...know someone.”

“Oh?” 

He sighed. “I can’t say what his plans are, but he is in need of work. He’s been staying at the house, a friend of my friends there.”

“Your tenants?” she asked. “You found one to fill the empty room?”

“He’s just staying for a few days while he gets on his feet,” Caduceus explained. “He’s been helping me with some projects around the house. Very helpful and attentive. Hard worker. He spent years working aboard ships doing manual labor and such. And he’s, uh, he’s taken an interest in Her.”

“Really?” That caught her attention. “Huh. I mean, you can’t make people follow your religion to work with you, and I’d never do that, but it’d be a bonus.”

“He’s been very respectful, if nothing else.”

Calliope scoffed. “That would be a treat in itself after some of these interviews. Yeah. Alright. Give him my number if he’s interested. I’ll talk to him.”

He didn’t love how it felt, to be putting Fjord in a position where nearly every part of his life was centered around the Clays. But he didn’t seem to think about it that way, so Caduceus laid off and let him make his own choices. 

That evening, after his conversation with Fjord, Caduceus lingered outside. He admired the stars, the graveyard, Her influence over this little nature reserve in the midst of a city. 

His ears twitched as soft footsteps approached. Beau sat down on the bench nearby, arms crossed and stretched out in her casual way.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she said.

“Hm?”

“I never did thank you. For letting Fjord stay here with, like, no notice.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he said. “It seems like it was just what he needed.”

She sighed. “Yeah. He, uh, hasn’t been okay for awhile now. Honestly, I don’t think he would’ve stayed or done half the things he’s done since he got here if it weren’t for you, though.”

“Me?”

“He, like, super respects you,” she explained. “Fjord can be pretty guarded. But you have this, like, calming presence.”

She gestured widely as she explained it.

“I’ve been told that before,” he said.

“Yeah, and I think it’s helped him feel safe. For once. I dunno. I haven’t heard him talk or laugh like that in awhile.”

Caduceus took a slow, quiet breath. “I’ve enjoyed his company as well.”

“Do you think you could maybe, I don’t know, talk to him? About staying?”

He paused, and she quickly went on, “I’ve talked to everyone, and we can all help do some work or even pay until he can afford rent. Which I know isn’t ideal for you as a landlord, but Fjord is not the type to be a freeloader, and he’ll definitely find a jo--”

“It’s not that, Beau,” Caduceus said. “I would gladly let him stay for free, or even per our current agreement, until he found work. My concern is more that… I don’t want to pressure Fjord. If he’s not ready to leave The Champions, we can’t force him. He’ll only feel more isolated from us if we try.”

“But--”

“And if we push too hard, he’ll withdraw further than before. We need to be a safe place for him, including safe from judgement. That’s what I’ve been trying to do. That way, whenever _he_ is ready, this will be the first place he goes.”

“What if he’s not ready in time?” she asked. “What if he gets hurt or, like, sells his soul or whatever, and he can’t back out so easily. Right now, it wouldn’t be that hard for him to get away. Later, it’ll be so much worse for him. I just want to help him.”

“I know. And I think he knows, too. But that’s his choice to make, Beau.”

She was silent for a long moment, curling in on herself in her seat.

“I know,” Caduceus said. “I know.”

~~

Caduceus woke on the last day Fjord would be in the Xhorhaus. The pain had returned, and with it, a growing pit in his stomach.

How can I let him leave, knowing what will be done to him? he asked Her, lying in bed and staring at the slanted ceiling of his attic room. How can I watch him go and not bed him to stay?

He forced himself upright despite the weight of the pit in his stomach and the pain in his chest. He dressed, numb and gray while no one could see him. Then, he looked outside.

His breath left him. For a moment, all the weight vanished. He stumbled down the stairs and out the door, clinging to the porch railing as he looked out to the largest tree in the Blooming Grove.

It was covered in bright pink petals.

Had it ever happened before? He couldn’t recall any such stories. The tree did not flower. It had never flowered. And now, it was the color of his hair, of spring, of joy.

He made his way to the tree, slowly taking it in as he approached. This was Her. This was magic. He stood beneath the branches, the wind shaking free little showers of soft petals. His face burst into a childlike smile.

Everything will be okay, it told him.

“Caduceus!”

The distant call drew his attention back to the house, to the window of Fjord’s room. Fjord leaned out it, face alight as he took in the tree. He was down at his side in a moment, petals sticking to his hair and expression reflecting the joy on Caduceus’s. 

He listened as Fjord told him about the dream, about Her. He wanted to weep from relief, from joy. She had taken him in, folded him into Her love and care. She would protect him, and he would have something good and pure to give his life the purpose he sought. 

He called it a blessing, looking up to keep himself from crying when Fjord’s eyes welled. 

The future remained uncertain. This would not magically save Fjord, nor make him stay or love Caduceus in return. But it was something. Even if it was Fjord’s last day in the Xhorhaus, Caduceus would make it a celebration. 

So he spent the day cooking. He went out to the Sunday farmer’s market he liked the most, even though it was later than he liked to go and the crowds much thicker. He kept a steady breathing exercise through his visit, forcing smiles at the usual vendors and occasionally freezing when one too many people bumped into him.

He made it through the market, arriving home in the early afternoon with his handmade bags filled. First, he made quick sandwiches to set out in the entry room with a tall pitcher of water. The Nein would see that platter and know the kitchen was off limits. Then, it began.

Caduceus’s favorite holiday was any holiday that involved a feast. As a boy, he used to linger at the edges of the kitchen, peering through the doorway and around corners to see the adults work with magic in the form of food. He’d never been a sneaky child, always too gawky, so it was never long before someone noticed him. Eventually, they started handing him bowls to stir, vegetables to wash, any little task he could manage. Next thing he knew, he was standing among them every holiday.

As he bustled about the kitchen, flipping between in-progress meals with practiced timing, he felt that warm presence of his family with him. He’d done something like this the last time Clarabelle visited. He’d sent her off with a tower of prepared meals taller than her. Later, she’d mailed him back the tupperware with a framed pinned bug she’d put together. It now hung in the kitchen, a shiny beetle that watched him work. 

It filled him with a joyous energy he hadn’t felt in some time, not since before the tree bloomed, not since before, well. He knew why he felt this way, but he didn’t think on it. 

Fjord would still be around, even if not physically. His friends would talk about him, and Caduceus would listen in with every bit of attention and pretend not to be terribly worried. He might visit here and there, if it was allowed.

And maybe, _maybe_ he would return for good one day. 

That was, as Beau might say, a crapshoot. But Caduceus had faith that Fjord would someday break free of that group, a faith only strengthened by knowing She had Her eyes on him as well. And maybe Fjord would end up back in the Grove. And maybe he’d stay, for a while. But he’d leave. Only two kinds of people stayed in the Grove: the dead and Caduceus.

Fjord got back earlier than expected, and Caduceus covered his melancholy in thick coats of joy. This was a celebration of sorts, an act of thanks in the form of creation. Making meals to sustain someone he’d waited his entire life to spend a week with. Meeting anyone in such a big, wide world was a blessing, and it deserved joy, not mourning.

Even if Fjord was about to depart back into the mouth of hell itself. At least, that was how Caduceus had come to picture The Champions and their house. Wherever it was. It probably didn’t have enough plants.

When he revealed the purpose of these meals, trying to make it seem like something a normal, decent person did for someone they barely knew and _not_ like he was masking deeper feelings, Fjord wilted.

Was it the food? The ingredients? Did he not want to be reminded? Was he sad to leave? Did he want to--

Before Fjord could explain himself, the door opened. 

They dealt with the intruders handily. Caduceus was rather pleased with his performance. His family would get a kick out of that story, certainly. 

And then he was faced with the Nein lugging Fjord’s possessions into the house.

“Are you going to stay, Fjord?”

The world felt slow, as though it had narrowed in on that moment to draw it out.

“I...hoped to.”

And just like that, Fjord returned all the color to Caduceus’s world in an explosive instant. He knew he was smiling too big, inching too close, too visibly excited, but Fjord only blushed and smiled back at him. 

Maybe it was okay to feel this way. Maybe Fjord liked him, even if it was as friends. But maybe…

Well, there was time for that, wasn’t there?

~~

The end of the semester was upon them before long. Caduceus had only really measured time in seasons, but now that his life was filled with students, he learned to adapt.

Fjord was a bundle of nerves throughout finals week, tense in a way that had him convinced he was relaxed.

Caduceus, too, was feeling tense. The Nein had been discussing summer plans. Nott wanted to take time to visit her family, Beau wanted to avoid hers, and Jester had her parent-trap situation. Caleb had some school convention he was going to that Caduceus did not care to understand, which would allow him to visit Molly, to the group’s envy. 

There was talk of trips or summer classes or part time work. Everyone had their plan set in one way or another, except for Fjord. He remained quiet during these conversations, except where the group was planning something together. Caduceus knew he didn’t have family to visit, but the Grove didn’t kick out its tenants over the break. Maybe he wanted to go somewhere else? Take a vacation? Calliope hadn’t said anything about him asking for the summer off, but it didn’t seem right to ask. Would Caduceus have to go two months without seeing him? Would it be okay to call now and then? And how often was too often?

To avoid spiraling further into a panic, Caduceus busied himself helping Jester plan the party. They’d celebrated every semester’s end some way or another, but this one was special. No one would say it, but they were celebrating Fjord’s freedom as well. And making it special was another excuse to devote every bit of energy Caduceus had to planning instead of worrying.

The day of the party, he and Jester began their final preparations early. 

“Will you help me hang lights, Caduceus?” Jester asked, and he left his table shuffling to drag the ladder over. Despite his height advantage, Jester happily jumped onto the ladder while Caduceus held it steady and passed up strands of lights and nails.

“You know, I’ve noticed you and Fjord have gotten really close,” she said innocently.

He was expecting this eventually. Maybe not so soon, but could anyone blame him if he spent a hair too long admiring the spoils of Fjord’s workout regime or the tusks he was growing out?

“I’ve enjoyed getting to know him,” he said.

“Like, _really_ close.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Jester.”

She huffed, pausing to hammer a nail into a post. “I just think that you two would make a really cute couple, is all.”

“Couple?”

At his too-innocent tone, Jester groaned. Her shoulders dropped, and she lowered her arms, lights still grasped in both hands. Looking down the ladder, she said, “Come on, Caduceus. I know you know what I mean! I’m trying to see if you like Fjord.”

“Of course I li--”

“I mean, _like_ like Fjord,” she clarified in exasperation. “Goodness, Caduceus, you’re being soooo - what was the word Caleb used? - obtuse!”

“Caleb called me obtuse?” he asked. It seemed strange to him that anyone in the Nein talked about him when he wasn’t around. Not that he was offended - he hardly has the right - more that he hadn’t thought about it. Surely such busy and exciting people had better things to think about.

“No, no,” she corrected. Reaching back up, she wrapped the lights around the post. Caduceus dutifully handed her the hammer and a nail. “We just want you to be happy. And we want Fjord to be happy.”

She finished her work and hopped down the ladder’s steps to the ground. “What do you think?”

“I think it’ll look very nice when it’s dark,” Caduceus said, looking about the space between the house and the large tree. “Magical, even.”

She stood beside him on the ground, hands on her hips as she regarded her work with a smile. Then she looked at him and said, as though their conversation had never halted, “We just think you might be very happy together. You and Fjord, that is.”

“Yes, I gathered,” he said. “Jester, do you all talk about me and Fjord?”

“Hey guys,” Beau said as she approached, bag slung over one shoulder. “This place is looking really good. Almost makes you forget about the dead bodies.”

Jester nearly jumped in excitement at the sight of backup. “Beau! I was just telling Caduceus that I think he and Fjord--”

As she came to a stop before them, Beau leaned back to say, “Oooooh, yeah, for sure. Definitely a thing, right Caduceus?”

“So you do talk about us?” he asked with a small sigh.

“Of course we do,” Beau said, making her usual face that said “duh”. “There’s like, tension when you two look at each other and do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“It’s a really intense thing,” Jester said with a nod.

“You guys, like, I dunno. Telepathically sync up, or something. It’s just this weird energy, like some sexual tension but also a lot of whatever mixed in.”

“I don’t understand anything that you just said.”

“What I’m trying to say,” she explained, “is that you two seem like you have a thing going on between you. Like almost immediately when you met. I was there, and it was almost like I wasn’t. It’s kinda cool, when you think about it.”

“Isn’t it?” Jester cried. She gestured dramatically as she went on, as though she were recounting one of her dirty romance novels. “It’s like, Fjord was lost at sea, and Caduceus was the light that called him to shore. And then Fjord needed shelter, and he and Caduceus weathered the storm together and bonded over their goddess and stuff. It’s so romantic!”

Beau crossed her arms and shrugged. “I mean, when Fjord talks about moving here he always makes it sound kinda fated. And I don’t know if he’s talking about the house.”

“You should ask Fjord out,” Jester said, the point they’d been trying to get to for a meandering amount of time.

“I’m not asking Fjord out,” he said firmly. “As much as I try not to be weird about it, I am the landlord. And now he works for my sister. It’s just not… It would be wildly inappropriate.”

“But if he asked you out, though?” Beau asked.

“I…”

Jester gasped as his brief moment of hesitation. Her arm flew out to latch onto Beau’s in excitement. “Oh my gosh, Caduceus, do you like Fjord? For real?”

“I think it’s about time for lunch,” he decided, looking over their heads. There was Caleb and Nott walking up to the house now, Frumpkin curled around Caleb’s shoulders. They carried stacks of books. They looked heavy. They needed help. Urgently. Now. 

“Let me help you!” he called out, squeezing between Beau and Jester to jog over.

As he reached them and began taking books from each of their stacks, Jester called, “You can’t run from love Caduceus!”

“Ah, was she talking to you about Fjord?” Caleb asked in his casual way.

Caduceus dropped the book he was taking and quickly bent to pick it up.

“I still think it’s a little weird,” Nott said, and Caduceus’s stomach sank. “I mean, they’re like brothers, right? With the whole goddess thing? Totally family.”

Caleb shook his head, continuing towards the house past Caduceus. “Good luck with everything, Caduceus. We’re all rooting for you.”

“I mean, they even look alike,” Nott told Caleb as she followed him inside.

Caduceus stood on the path, arms full of books, looking between the friends headed inside talking about him and Fjord and those outside talking about him and Fjord.

Had they noticed? It seemed like they noticed _something_ , but what Jester said made him think they weren’t certain. At least not about his feelings. Which meant either they sensed some potential and were just _that_ nosy - which was possible, but quite invasive even for the Nein - or they had another reason to think there ought to be something between him and Fjord. And if it didn’t come from Caduceus…

What was he thinking? That Fjord had told his friends he had feelings for Caduceus? That wasn’t like him, but then again, maybe he hadn’t said anything. At least not outright. 

Caduceus had trouble reading Fjord, but a lot of that was his fear of projecting his own feelings onto the man. His friends didn’t have that problem. What if all the little looks and gestures and quiet moments Caduceus lived for were real? What if his ‘reading too much into it’ wasn’t too much at all?

He headed for the house, lost in thought as he set the books on the table in the entry room with the others. 

It didn’t matter. Or it did matter, but it didn’t change anything. Even if his feelings were returned, even if their fated meaning was just as significant to Fjord as it was to Caduceus, even if the stars aligned and everything worked out, Caduceus would not make the first move. He couldn’t. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to.

~~

He went to bed after the party knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to sleep for at least a few hours. But this insomnia came from excitement. Butterflies in his chest as he replayed the night over and over in his mind. 

Talking with Fjord. His joy at the simple gesture of Fjord making his favorite sandwich. The beauty of the decor in his lifelong home filled with people and warmth and love. Marian’s otherworldly voice. That look in Fjord’s eyes when Caduceus thanked him, even just for being there. The moment when they kissed, and a vital wall between them came falling down, softly, unnoticed. 

Fjord believed Caduceus was the answer to his prayers. The catalyst for the change he desperately needed. But it was Caduceus whose days had gone gray and lifeless. It was he who sat beneath that tree and prayed for guidance, for understanding, for some answer as to that strange, unshakable loneliness. And it was Caduceus who was saved, just by Fjord being there.

**Author's Note:**

> What started out as a fun little, "Let's write some Caduceus POV" turned into 7k words. Honestly, I don't know why I'm even surprised at myself anymore.


End file.
